July 21 marked our fortieth anniversary. These have been years of joy and laughter along with periods of great sorrow and tears. We have been blessed by people — whether friends or short-lived acquaintances — each of whom played a role in molding us. I credit them for the positive impacts and blame myself for the negative.
For example, earlier this year, as I searched for a misplaced item, I found an old curio and immediately recognized it as a gift from an elderly couple whom we had met on our honeymoon. At one of the ports of call, they had gone to a curiosity shop and bought it, and gifted it to us at dinner. I had not thought of them for decades. But the item instantly brought them back to my recollection. Given their age in 1984, I can only assume they have long since passed away by now, but their sunny disposition and sincere care for us has been an encouragement and inspiration since the moment I again saw their gift. And it was a mild rebuke for my having forgotten them.
As Lillie and I thought about options to celebrate our anniversary, the choice became an easy one: why not return to Kalamazoo, Michigan, where we began life as a married couple and where we still have friends who continue to influence us to this day? As I wrote in Lullaby
“Whenever I count my blessings, I think of my parents and grandparents and the life and heritage they bequeathed me.
“I think of El Pao and childhood friends.
“And I always think of Kalamazoo.
“I vividly recall flying to that town for the first time in the early summer of 1984. As the plane approached and the green fields and lakes — so many lakes! — came into view, my heart was powerfully drawn to that small midwestern city that I had hardly ever heard about (except in a Glenn Miller song).
“The folks I met, my interactions with clerks, executives, factory workers, children, immediately brought El Pao to my mind. The Midwest became more than a geographical touchpoint: it immediately became a part of me … because it was always a part of me, only I did not know it. The ready friendship and transparency of our neighbors, church brethren, professional colleagues, mechanics, you-name-it, was a throwback to my childhood in El Pao and purlieus. It was coming home to a home you did not know you had.”
Thomas Wolfe titled one of his works, You Can’t Go Home Again. In the novel he expands on this, “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood … back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame … back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting, but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”
Agree. However, one can return — must return! — to some extent: the extent of gratitude and recognition of the strong foundations. One can return to say “thank you” and to build upon that groundwork or to say “I’m sorry” and make things right as necessary. Living in the past is neither healthy nor helpful. Christianity does not worship the past; however, we should recognize it and appreciate it and build upon it.
It was good to be back — back to good people we have long missed but whom, seeing again, seemed like yesterday. Back to sights which never faded in our mind’s eye.
We returned from Kalamazoo to be met by 12 of our 13 children and five of our eight grandchildren, along with other loved ones, including nephews and grandnephews. It was quite a party.
And we are grateful.
__________________
I remember the first time someone reacted negatively when I wished him a Merry Christmas. It was 1975 and several of us were signing off for the year. As I headed to the door I saw two colleagues and offered them the traditional Christmas greeting. One replied in kind; the other, with a mocking “Ho! Ho! Ho!”. That only elicited laughter from me as I replied likewise, but in light hearted form.
It was only upon returning to the office in early January when the other colleague informed me that my greeting had offended the “Ho! Ho! Ho!” fellow, which came as a shock to me as I’d never heard of someone being offended by a Christmas greeting. The mining camp of my birth was peopled with folks from all walks of life, yet all enjoyed this special season as reflected in several past posts, for example, here.
There followed an era of hesitant well-wishing, but, thankfully, that ended not too many years later when I saw that some people were outspoken in their celebrations of what can only be described charitably as filth. And this hesitancy was buried even further during and after my years in the Middle East where my Muslim and Hindu friends had no hesitancy in wishing me a Merry Christmas and a Happy Easter even though they themselves did not believe in the Incarnate and Risen Lord.
Some people, sadly, are permanently offended and if we kowtow to them we allow the universe to be ruled by the dog in the manger. This does not give us license to be rude; however, it surely must not muzzle our joy in the Lord, which is our strength.
Our celebration has a Focus; it is not a celebration for the sake of a celebration; it is not a rejoicing merely for rejoicing. Such merrymaking is surely short lived and hollow. The Lord makes our rejoicing very real, indeed. We know Him and so we rejoice. And we sincerely desire and invite others to also rejoice with us.
In that spirit, we wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous 2025.
Elizabeth, Tyler, Jonathan, Joseph, Samuel, Nathan, Esther, John, Rachel, Rebekah, Andrew, Richard, and Christopher. Brothers-in-law Les and wife, Nancy, and David and nieces Emma and Olivia. Lillie’s mother: Myrna. Grandchildren, Grace, Emily, Beverly, Sarah, James. Not pictured, nephew Jordan and his family. Unable to be present: Charles, Essie and grandchildren, Ebenezer, Ada, Rosemary.